Moments For No One Else
by Nightgem
Summary: Based on a prompt for the Johnlock fic exchange: "Domestic!Johnlock . I just want something cute and sweet and warm." So, here it is. Sherlock gives John a gift after being inspired by their latest case. Bonus story because I thought the first was too short: How John feels about the morning. Enjoy. Or don't, I'm not a cop.
1. Chapter 1

"I have something for you."

John looked up from his laptop, having just finished typing up the details of their latest case, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"You do?" he asked, shutting the computer and setting it aside. Sherlock, who had been sitting in the kitchen for some time now, staring intently at something out of John's line of sight, nodded and stood. Crossing the room, he stopped just in front of John and held out a small box wrapped in Christmas paper so perfectly that Martha Stewart herself could have done it. John gave Sherlock a look as he took it.

"Did you ask Mrs. Hudson to wrap this for you?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. Sherlock frowned, before giving a small, conceding shrug.

"I did ask if she had less themed paper," he responded, slightly embarrassed considering it was mid-June.

"No, no, it's fine," John assured him, smiling a bit. He was slightly weary of the gift though, only because of the reason behind it that he couldn't see, and thus didn't open it yet as he questioned, "It's not my birthday, or an anniversary date… did you do something wrong?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes impatiently. "I've done nothing, just open it," he pushed, waving one hand. John looked back at the box for a moment longer before sliding one finger underneath the tape, removing the paper with as little tearing as possible. Sherlock fidgeted slightly as he watched John's slowness, but John ignored him, feeling like he should be respectful of the wrapping since it was done so nicely. Finally pulling the paper away, underneath was a simple cardboard box that fit in the palm of John's hand. He popped off the top quickly and was pleasantly surprised at what he found inside.

A dark, thin metal chain pooled in the back of the box, with a small, silver ring attached to it from either side, holding it in place. John lifted it out of the box to examine it, grateful for the length, which didn't appear too long or too short for his liking. Turning it over, he realized there was an inscription on the back of the ring: _A Study In Pink_. John laughed when he read it.

"The woman at the store suggested engraving the date we started seeing each other, but I felt that more appropriate," Sherlock explained, studying John's face carefully. "What do you think?"

John looked up at the detective, who was still standing stiffly in front of him. "It's perfect. Not too much, something I can take with me when we're apart… Want to help me?" He motioned for Sherlock to take the necklace, which he promptly did, sitting down on the couch next to John. The blonde twisted himself slightly so Sherlock could get the chain around his neck, hooking the clasp in record time. When he was done, John turned back towards him, catching Sherlock's hand and taking it in his own.

"Thank you," John said sincerely, finally making Sherlock smile a bit himself. After, however, he immediately asked, "So, why all this then?" Sherlock's pleased expression fell away to something quite a bit less self-assured.

"Would you settle for the explanation of 'I was feeling spontaneous?'" he asked dryly. John smirked and shook his head, eliciting a resigned sigh from his detective. "Very well. It was that case we finished the other day."

"The man who died of poisoning from the tattoo gun?" John attempted to clarify, obviously confused.

Sherlock nodded. "Correct. When we went to question his girlfriend, she refused to do anything other than cry obscenely, due to the fact that he had received the tattoo to match the one she had gotten in honor of him a few months ago. It was obviously a failing relationship, but you tried to console her regardless, and your exact words were, _'He obviously loved you very much, and wanted something to remind him of you that he could keep with him always. Everyone in love wants something like that.'_ The only conclusion I could draw was that you were speaking from experience."

His tale finished, the man glanced away for the briefest of intervals, but it was enough that he was completely thrown off-guard when John suddenly placed his hands on either side of Sherlock's face and pulled him forward, pressing his lips against his own passionately. He pulled away after a few seconds, keeping his hands on Sherlock's face and looking at him with utter endearment.

"I can't believe you paid attention to that," John said in a low voice. He hadn't meant his words of consolation to the woman as a subtle suggestion of his own desires in the least, but the fact that Sherlock had taken it upon himself nonetheless made John unexpectedly happy. Sherlock's lips curved around the edges.

"Don't insult me," he replied, much more pleased than he was letting on. John said nothing more, merely bringing his mouth back to Sherlock's in a kiss that could convey far more than words.


	2. Bonus Drabble: Mornings

On the outside, nothing had changed. Lestrade hadn't even realized until four months in, when Sherlock had made an astounding connection in a case and John had let slip the mesmerized words, "I love you." He'd laughed until he saw the pleased expression on Sherlock's face, and then it wasn't so funny anymore. But he never asked. And so they carried on, as they always did, Sherlock being his amazing self and John being his anchor. Nothing had changed.

Sometimes, home wasn't much different either. John still brought back takeaway on Fridays and read the paper while Sherlock shouted at the telly, much to the doctor's amusement. He still went to work at the surgery every day and often came home to the kitchen rearranged and reconfigured to put any college laboratory to shame. It was only if one were to watch for a long time that they would realize it wasn't the same. They would see the subtle looks that lingered a little too long, John's quick kisses when he thought Sherlock wasn't paying attention, and the truth, that Sherlock was _never_ not paying attention to him. They'd see an open admittance of love that was never there before. And then, they would know that something had indeed changed.

By far though, John's favorite difference had to be the morning. Though he still technically lived upstairs, that bed had been all but abandoned, the night nine times out of ten ending with Sherlock's arm draped across John's chest and his head on Sherlock's shoulder. John had learned very quickly, however, that when Sherlock slept, he shifted. By the morning he was usually in a completely different position than the one he had started out in, either burying John completely underneath him or leaving him shoved up against the edge of the bed by himself. The blonde didn't have a care either way, as long as he got to be the one who woke up first.

Initially, he'd open his eyes sleepily, swallowing to clear his dried out throat, then turn his head to see the familiar mop of dark, curly hair. Sherlock's face was without stress, without the constant turning of gears that John had accepted he'd never be able to fully understand, and for a moment, he wouldn't even be able to pretend to deny that Sherlock Holmes was beautiful. Over time, John had come to pride himself on the things no one saw but him, points of emotional vulnerability or glances that held an entire hidden conversation in them, but nothing compared to those moments when Sherlock was asleep and only his.

Of course, moments like that never lasted. Eventually, Sherlock would shift and his eyelids would snap open, fully alert as if he'd never been sleeping at all. His first facial expression of the day was a smirk, when he caught John staring at him _again, _though he didn't mind it.

"You've been awake for at least a half hour," he would comment, raising an eyebrow as he propped himself up on his elbows, stomach to the sheets. "Doesn't staring at me get dull after a while?"

John would just smile, because the answer was obvious, and reply instead, "Good morning to you too."


End file.
